


The Executioner

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Series: At What Price [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, Dark, Feathers & Featherplay, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Executioner

Macnair struggled, twisting this way and that in his bonds, but they held fast. Not magical bonds, but heavy metal shackles that pinned him to the table at his wrists, ankles, and neck. The night air chilled his naked skin, slick with sweat despite the cold. Metal, not magic. When it came to torture, his captor liked the Muggle way, brutal and dirty, but efficient. That was half the fun, Lupin had told him the first time, the now familiar half-smile that never reached his eyes playing across his lips. Then he had started to press the hot poker against Macnair's ribs, one after the other, until the blinding pain and the stench of cooking flesh had driven him into blessed unconsciousness, but not before he'd come in Lupin's pumping hand, much to his dismay.

Macnair could see the sun setting through the barred window. He reckoned he still had a few minutes before Lupin made an appearance. 'What would it be tonight?' he wondered with a shiver. Lupin wouldn't ask him for information. He never did. He would simply come to him and hurt him with an almost sweet-natured impassivity. Sometimes Macnair longed to see a deeper emotion in Lupin's eyes, longed to see them light up with the sadistic enjoyment of the pain he was inflicting on his enemy or to burn with hatred for the filthy Death Eater in his power. The most that Lupin ever mustered for him, however, was that quiet, chilling smile.

A loud cranking sound alerted Macnair to Lupin's presence. He cried out as his body was stretched, his joints creaking and his muscles tearing, he and the rusty machinery of the rack screaming as one. Just as he thought he could take it no longer, just as he felt his spine would surely snap, the machine stopped. Not the pain, though; he was suspended in a limbo of sensation. He could feel every nerve ending in his tormented limbs until he could no longer tell where agony transmuted into ecstasy. Then he felt something soft touch his stomach, and he was instantly hard.

Lupin drew the object lightly up the centre of his chest while Macnair squirmed in pleasure. He stroked it across Macnair's throat, just barely touching his Adam's apple before moving it into Macnair's line of vision. Macnair sighed in relief - a feather, not the stiletto again, as he had feared. He almost laughed - really, Lupin was losing his touch. What harm could he possibly do with a feather?

Macnair closed his eyes with a moan as the feather kissed his eyelids and his lips. Macnair felt his throat tighten as Lupin continued to caress his face with unexpected gentleness. 'Damn him,' Macnair thought as he instinctly arched into the feathery touches. Lupin wasn't supposed to make him _care_.

Lupin trailed the feather down his throat to his sternum, pausing to tease Macnair's nipples into hard nubs. Then he continued his way down Macnair's stomach. The bound main tried not to move, as every involuntary muscular twitch shot a frisson of torment to every nerve in his body. Only Lupin's feather seemed to be able to soothe the pain, but its faint tickle exacerbated it as well.

Macnair's cock was hard to the point of bursting, leaking copious amounts of pre-come, but Lupin ignored it assiduously, focusing his attention on the hard planes of Macnair's stomach and his muscled thighs. Tears of frustration streamed down Macnair's face, but he would not, could not beg his tormentor for release.

Lupin worked his way down Macnair's legs, noting where Macnair had reacted to his stimulus with particular intensity - his lower abdomen near his hips, the spot just inside his thigh that always made him instantly, irrevocably erect, the hollow of his knees, the soles of his feet. Lupin observed him with a clinical detachment, which would have warned Macnair if he hadn't been so caught up in the unexpected pleasure.

Lupin's smile widened to a grimace and his eyes shone with an almost demonic light as he focused his efforts on just these spots. Macnair tried to hold back the laughter as Lupin teased him there again and again. Suddenly, he could hold it in no longer and it burst forth, a deep belly laugh that tore a muscle in his back. He didn't care, however, because once he'd started, he couldn't stop. He laughed and laughed as his body creaked perilously on the wrack.

"Shh," Lupin said in an attempt to calm him. "You'll injure yourself if you don't stop thrashing about like that."

Macnair could tell that Lupin didn't really mean it, however; he didn't really care if Macnair injured himself, because he just wouldn't let up. Macnair's laughs turned to sobs and then he was hyperventilating as Lupin continued to stimulate his sensitive spots with cold precision. It was then that he noticed that Lupin had spelled the iron band around his neck to tighten with each desperate gulp for air. Soon Macnair was gasping for air in earnest. He had no more care for injuries to his muscles or joints. Sobbing, he thrashed against his bonds, begging Lupin to stop. As his world started to go grey, Lupin threw aside the feather and grasped Macnair's cock. He pulled it and stroked it only a few times and already Macnair was coming. As the band around his throat squeezed him into unconsciousness, Macnair thought, 'This is it. Lupin is really going to do it this time.'

When Macnair came to, he was lying alone in his own come, the fetters opened. His wand lay next to him, along with a slip of paper. He opened the note and read:

 _Same time next month. Please deposit my fee in my Gringott's account._

 _R.L._

"Incendio," he murmured, tapping the paper with his wand. On his way out, he paused for a moment to enjoy the night air.


End file.
